


Kissing for Luck

by ThamesNymph



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27697999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThamesNymph/pseuds/ThamesNymph
Summary: Jaskier finds something out about Geralt, Geralt hates it, and Jaskier invents a new superstition for Geralt's benefit (and his own). Basically just extreme fluff.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 5
Kudos: 218
Collections: Just.... So cute...





	Kissing for Luck

**Author's Note:**

> I'm assuming that it's basically never sunny in the show for the *atmosphere* but all I could think was that Geralt doesn't spend enough time in the sun and it made me come up with this.

Jaskier had been travelling with Geralt, on and off, for two years. It was now the first time that they reached the warmer lands to the south. Jaskier had not realised until now how much he had missed the sun. Much of Geralt's work was done after dark, so he was not infrequently known to sleep for large portions of the day and they travelled in twilight or at night. Besides, most of the time, it seemed that they had been in uniformly gloomy lands, where it rained or snowed almost interminably, and when it did not, the skies were so heavily overcast that the sun was a pale disc of slightly lighter grey in the brooding clouds.

But now, at last, they were actually walking under the rays of a bright, delicious sun, so warm as to be almost hot. It didn't seem to make much of a difference in Geralt's perpetually gloomy mood, but Jaskier was overjoyed. He had not even realised how much the weather had been oppressing him, and the difference the sunshine made in his mood was phenomenal. He felt absolutely euphoric. He only wished Geralt would share at least some of his happiness.

They were blessed with similarly wonderful weather the next day, and the next. An entire week went by of unremitting and blessed sunshine. Jaskier was ecstatic. When they stopped at midday to eat and let Roach rest, Jaskier lay back in the long grass with a contented sigh.

'Why can't we always travel through nice places like this?' he asked. 'Why do you always work in such gloomy places? Are you trying to make your life some huge pathetic fallacy?'

'Less monsters in the sun and the warmth,' Geralt said shortly.

Jaskier sat up and looked at him. For no real reason, except that he liked looking at Geralt in various lights, and he still wasn't used to seeing him in actual sunlight. He just liked looking at Geralt anyway, and it was lovely to see the sun giving his silver hair and even-brighter gleam, making the pupils of his eyes contract so that the irises were more golden than ever, a lighter gold than usual, and... Jaskier stared.

'Geralt, did you know that you... I cannot believe this!' he gasped.

'What?' Geralt growled, sounding irritable.

'You... you have _freckles_!'

'Ah, fuck!' was Geralt's eloquent response, rubbing a hand over the bridge of his nose and looking slightly mortified. 

Jaskier thought this was the most endearing and adorable thing he had ever seen. Under the sun's influence, Geralt had developed a distinct line of freckles across his nose and over his cheekbones, a light brown dusting against his pale skin. 

'Stop looking at them,' Geralt snarled, turning away and standing up.

Jaskier leapt up too. 'Sorry, I just... Please don't stab me, but I think they're lovely. Please don't stab me!'

Geralt rolled his eyes. 'Fucking ridiculous is what they are. I've forgotten I get them.'

Then Jaskier had a brilliant idea. Well, it was equal parts brilliant and moronic, because he knew that Geralt was fully capable of punching him for it. Hopefully he wouldn't stab him, at the very least. He went over to Geralt, who looked at him with some surprise as he stepped closer. When Jaskier came too close, he could feel Geralt tense, probably just his instinctive reaction to anyone moving into his space, but it put Jaskier on edge. He ran one hand over Geralt's cheek, feeling him start and glare with annoyance. He could already see Geralt getting ready to demand what the fuck he thought he was doing.

'May I - ?' Jaskier asked.

'What?' Geralt sounded tense.

Jaskier took a deep breath, stretched up slightly and kissed the bridge of Geralt's nose. He wasn't surprised when Geralt jerked away, but he _was_ surprised that it took him all of three seconds to do so. Three seconds is actually a very long time when you are kissing someone's nose.

'What the fuck are you doing?' Gerald demanded (predictably), but he didn't look half as infuriated as Jaskier had feared. He looked more... confused.

Jaskier opened wide, innocent eyes. 'Kissing for luck,' he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. 'Like the superstition.'

'What superstition?'

'Don't you know? Really, Geralt, you've been around for, well, I don't know how many years, and you're telling me you don't know about the freckle superstition? It's said that if you kiss someone's freckles, you get a day of good luck for each one. So I was kissing for good luck.' And Jaskier smiled his most winning, guileless smile.

'Hmm,' Geralt said. They stood facing each other for a few seconds, definitely long enough for Jaskier to start regretting his actions. It was getting excruciatingly awkward. Was Geralt just trying to figure out the most painful way to murder him? And then Geralt said just about the last thing Jaskier would have expected him to say. He tilted his head slightly to one side in that interrogative way he had and asked, 'Well, why did you stop?'

Jaskier gaped at him. Honestly, all he had planned on was to get an excuse to kiss Geralt, playfully and briefly, and hope he wouldn't annoy Geralt too much by it. Inventing a superstition just to get to kiss someone's nose was probably a little extreme, but Geralt was an extreme sort of person. Drastic measures were needed. But apparently, Geralt was not only not annoyed, but quite happy to let Jaskier go on. Jaskier had long ago resigned himself to the fact that Geralt was completely uninterested in any romantic or sexual advance from him, and deflected his flirting stonily. He had long ago made peace with the fact that he would just spend the rest of his life wallowing in unrequited love and take his desires elsewhere to be satisfied. But now, here Geralt was, watching him with a slight smirk that challenged him to go on kissing.

'Um, well,' Jaskier stuttered, 'if you're generous enough to let me have a few more days of good luck, who am I to refuse?' And he moved closer again, brushing his lips in soft kisses against Geralt's nose and cheekbones, stoking his rough hair.

'Jaskier,' Geralt said softly. It didn't sound menacing, but Jaskier drew away, just to be on the safe side, his heart pounding in his throat.

'Yes?'

'You have freckles too. And my work is very dangerous, I need all the luck I can get.'

He was watching Jaskier with that fond little smile, his golden eyes warm and full of laughter.

'Oh,' Jaskier managed, sounding quite stunned. 'Oh, well, help yourself.'

Geralt traced a finger along his jaw and then gently kissed his nose. Jaskier decided that this was either a dream or the best day destiny would ever give him. 

'Geralt?' he asked, breathlessly.

'Mmm?'

'Do you have freckles anywhere else?'

'I don't, they're brought out by the sun.'

'Well, I think we should check. Just to be on the safe side. Wouldn't want to miss out on more luck.'

'Yes, you certainly don't want that.'


End file.
